


Pins and Needles

by TheLazerShark



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Don't starve: Hamlet - Freeform, Eventual Fluff, Ficlet, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maxwell is slightly protective of Wendy, Needles, They don't kiss or confess or anything but it's a sweet moment, Wendy doesn't know that Maxwell is William Carter, Wendy knows alot, Wilson is Wagstaff's nephew, Wilson's scared of needles, a little bit of banter, first work for DS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28161672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLazerShark/pseuds/TheLazerShark
Summary: When Wagstaff makes a vaccine for hay fever, it spells great news for everyone, one less thing to worry about. Except for one problem.Wilson's deathly afraid of needles.
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve), Robert Wagstaff & Wilson (Don't Starve), Wendy & Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	Pins and Needles

“I’ve done it!” Wagstaff ran out of the house- he had locked himself up in here for days- his shoes smacking against the cobblestone path and a beaker in his hand.  
“Done what Mr. Wagstaff?“ Wendy asked, dropping her previous conversation with Wilson about the fragility of life.  
Why, I’ve created something wonderful, something unique, something never seen before in the constant that will change our lives forever- has it always been so… hot out here? And everything is weighing me down...”  
“It’s your backpack- Humid season, remember?” Wilson reminded him.  
“Ah, right. Forgot about that.”

Wagstaff’s memory came and went these days. If Wilson could be honest, it felt like it went more than it came. Sometimes the inventor couldn’t even remember his own nephew.

“Regardless of the minor setback, I have done it again!” He cheered, handing the beaker to his nephew, “Yet another great invention under the name of Wagstaff…”  
“But what is it,” Wilson asked, examining the beaker. It has swirling blue liquid inside and smelled like... nettles?  
“What is it? It’s one of my best inventions, besides WX-78 and the Voxola radios. This will revolutionize the constant, allow the world to bend at our will, allow us to become greater than our enemies-”  
“But not strong enough to escape the inevitability of death…” The blonde girl reminded them.  
“But what does it do?” Wilson asked, trying his best to steer the conversion away from mortality again.  
“Oh. It’s a vaccine for hayfever.”  
“A… vaccine? Like… a shot?” Wilson slowly said, his stomach churning from the mere mention of the word.  
“Yes, like taking a shot. Didn’t your mother take you to the doctor in the real world?”  
“Well yes...” 

Wagstaff went on, blathering about the process of making his new invention, while Wilson went pale, remembering the horrid trips to the doctors in his youth, getting those horrible needles in his skin- and they pushed the liquid into his bloodstream- just the thought of it was enough to make his skin crawl. Forget the heat, he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to shake the existential dread he was feeling and swallowing the lump in his throat.

“... And then I added the final ingredient; a dash of aloe vera- a very useful plant, I must say- and that’s when I was sure it would work! I could have done more trails of course- have you been listening?”  
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Wilson nervously said, “Oh, would you look at that, the fog’s letting up! I need to uh, get ingredients… for a new science project! Yup, that’s definitely it.”  
“May I come with? I want to summon Abigail again.” The blonde girl asked, cupping Abigail's flower in her hand.  
“Oh, um, sure…” 

Wendy was the kid that made him the most uncomfortable with her morbidity and nihilism sometimes, but she was far better than needles.

He began his trek outside the Pig town, and to the outskirts of the wild plains, Wendy following close behind. Everything smelled like rain and wet dog, considering all the Pog fur lying everywhere. Wendy went to kill a glowfly, while Wilson stuffed grass in his pockets, trying his best to look like he knew what he was doing. Why needles? He couldn’t explain why he hated them so much, but he just did.

“Do you really need that much grass?” Wendy suddenly asked, causing Wilson to jump.  
“Uh… yes? It’s um… for flammability.”  
“And why would you need whatever your making to be on fire?” She pried.  
“Because… well, maybe I-uh...” Wilson sputtered. Damn, he was a terrible liar.

Wilson felt a chill next to him. He was used to it at this point though, ghosts radiated cold. Abigail floated next to him before returning to Wendy’s side, seemingly whispering something into Wendy’s ear, although Wilson couldn’t hear. Abigail could only talk to Wendy, which just raised more questions on ghosts for Wilson. He swore he would figure out the mysteries of the ectoplasmic someday...

“Abigail thinks you’re scared.”  
Wilson shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I am.”  
Wendy cocked her head to the side. “But you’ve died before, and you’re bound to do it again. Why be scared of death?  
“No no, not death. Needles. Shots, whatever, I just don’t like them,” He admitted, arms crossed.  
“You fear needles more than death?”  
“I guess so.”

There was a moment of silence as Wendy wordlessly talked to Abigail. That sounded incredibly stupid now that he thought about it, why had Wilson told her that? Now there was probably going to be another talk about nihilism, and how nothing-including his fears- mattered in the long run, because we’re all going to die painful deaths or something. 

"Applesauce," He groaned, plopping down on the grass- not caring if it was wet from the rain- and putting his head in his hands. So much for being a gentleman.

“Abigail used to be afraid of needles too,” The blond girl softly said as she sat next to him, “She would scream and fuss when it was time to see the doctor, even bit him too. But after she got one, she realized it wasn’t so bad after all, and after that, she wasn’t scared.  
Abigail nodded.  
Wilson peeked his head out of his arms. “So you think I should just… get one and I won’t be scared anymore?”  
“I think it could help.”  
Wilson thought for a minute, then suddenly got up.  
“You know what Wendy, you’re absolutely right! I can’t just wallow in self-pity, I’m a scientist for heaven’s sake, and scientists find solutions for problems!”

He helped her get up and they trotted along on the cool wet grass back to camp, just after it turned dusk. Maxwell was the only one still awake by the time they returned, waiting by one of the streetlamps in town.

“You're late,” He frowned after he saw them.  
“And you waited,” Wilson said with a smirk, “I’m touched, I thought you didn’t like me.”  
“I didn’t wait for you Higgsbury, I waited for Wendy. Children need bedtimes.”  
“This is the Constant. Do I really need a bedtime?” Wendy huffed.  
“Yes. Sleep is important for young minds.” Maxwell agreed, patting her on the head.  
Wendy stopped. “That’s what my uncle William used to say…”  
“Well... I suppose great minds think alike,” Maxwell quickly said, “Now off to bed with you.”

Wendy waved goodbye to the both of them and went into the small house she shared with Willow, Abigail floating behind her. They all shared houses, 2 per house, and with Wilson’s amazing luck, he just managed to room with The puppet master himself. Though, to be honest, it wasn’t as bad as he’d initially thought, Maxwell kept his side neat and read the codex until ungodly hours at night, which Wilson didn’t mind.

The door opened with a rusty squeak, and Wilson came in their house just before it began to fog again, however, there was a noticeable change. Needles. On the desk. With the vaccine.  
“Forgive me for not tidying up,” Maxwell said, arranging the needles in a box, “Today was rather hectic with all the shots.”  
“Yeah, I bet it was…” Wilson nervously twiddled with his thumbs, mentally begging Maxwell not to notice that he hadn’t taken one.  
“Come to think of it, I never saw you or Wendy. I should have given her one before she went to bed… I suppose there's always tomorrow though. ”

Wilson took a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He had to get this done and over with.  
“Wait um, could you give me a shot tonight? I-if you don’t mind.”  
“I suppose I could.” Maxwell began to ready one of the last needles, filling it with the horrid vaccine, “could you sit on the bed and roll up your sleeve?”  
Wilson did as he was told, hands shaking. His heart felt like it was about to explode. Maxwell came over, then paused.  
“...Are you alright pal?”  
“I’m fine,” Wilson said a little too loud for his liking.

Maxwell raised an eyebrow but continued. Wilson watched in horror as the needle got closer and closer to his skin, his throat felt like sandpaper, and his chest feeling tight. He felt like he was going to pass out. Emotions flooded him like an ocean wave, mighty and powerful and suddenly he couldn’t stand it. He smacked the needle away, causing Maxwell to step back as it clattered against the wooden floor. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- I couldn’t,” Wilson frantically apologized.  
Maxwell grabbed him by the shoulders and steadied him, staring intensely. “Higgsbury, you’re shaking like a damn leaf in the autumn, what is going on?”

Hot tears began streaming down Wilson’s face as he desperately tried to explain, but it just ended up being an incomprehensible mess. He held his head down, how embarrassing for Maxwell to be seeing him like this. To his surprise, Maxwell brought him to his chest- a warm embrace that Wilson desperately needed.  
A hug.  
Wilson sat there shocked, before wrapping his arms around the other, trying his very best to calm down. They sat there for what felt like hours, Wilson’s head on Maxwell’s shoulder, breathing in slowly.  
He stopped trembling and his heart quieted down in his chest, but he still held on, because somehow, after all the constant threw at him, he finally felt safe.

“Maxwell?” Wilson whispered.  
“Yes?”  
He slowly let go of the other man. “Thank you. For this. It… means alot.”  
“I can tell,” the older man said.  
“So um… should we try again?”  
“After that reaction? Of course not. I wouldn’t want you passing out on me just for a shot.”  
“You don’t want me passing out? Aw, I knew you cared about me,” Wilson smirked.  
“I meant to say we, '' Maxwell corrected, his cheeks flushing, “We, as in the group, wouldn't want you passing out. It would be dangerous to have even one of us out of capacity, due to safety in numbers and the like.”  
Wilson winked. “Whatever you say Maxie.”  
Maxwell folded his arms and looked away, without his usual sharp tongue.

Wilson yawned and stretched, feeling exhausted now that it all was over.  
“‘Think I’m going to hit the hay,” He said, lying down on his bed “Goodnight Maxie.”  
“Good night Wilson.” he turned away, going to his side of the room, sitting in his bed, and opening the codex to a bookmarked page.

Wilson… Maxwell never called him Wilson.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, hi. Uh, this is my first fic I've ever posted so, please be nice? Maybe? Also I'm planning to make another fic, not a one shot, that's going to take place in the Hamlet, who knows man.  
> Also, Applesauce is actually a swear word in the 20's.  
> Also also I didn't manage to get a beta reader for this so if there's any spelling or grammatical mistakes I'm sincerely sorry.


End file.
